𝑨𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒉 | ✔️

1 | An Anticipated Return

SUMMER - 5TH June 864AD - Morning

I CLIMBED the highest clifftop, squinting at the rising sun.
My home, Kendrick, laid before me like an open scroll; rolling lush green pastures, old but sturdy timber homes that stood for generations, grand sandstone monasteries full of our heritage and sage green pines guarding the woodlands.

The cool crisp breeze swept past me. I watched as a familiar ship with a dark eagle painted on the sail - approached the docks below. Peering down, I closely inspected the incoming ship. The vessel glided along the icy waters, steered by a shrouded figure. I noticed barrels, crates and other goods were on the ship. This must be a merchant's ship.

The ship came to a halt by the docks where a crowd gathered.
Whoever was on board must be one of my people. He could not possibly be an intruder...could he?

Curious, I rose to my feet and carefully climb down the rocky trail leading back to the outskirts of the village. Once I reached the docks, I pushed through the throng of excited villagers and watched as the cloaked figure pulled back their hood, revealing a familiar face.

Wrinkled lines traced below his eyes, dark hair mixed with silver strands was tied in a braid and piercing blue eyes looked around the excited villagers. A leather jerkin hung over his tunic, striped linen trousers fitted around his waist and mud-stained leather boots covered his feet. Beads clung around his neck on a thin string.

I adjusted my eyes to the figure. Then I realised who he was - my father. I sprinted towards him, pushing through the throng of excited villagers aside. After months, I was relieved to see him once again all limbs intact.

I flailed my arms, calling for his attention, but he had his back turned as he unloaded a crate.

"Father!" I threw my arms around his neck once I reached him. "I'm so relieved you are finally home!" I took the heavy crates in my hands. "Here, let me take this."

"Ardith! It's good to see you, my sweet," Father smiled, letting me take his crate. "I could really use an extra pair of hands. Thank goodness you're here."

"How was your trip?" I balanced the heavy crate in my arms.

I have always envied my father's job. He lived quite an exciting life venturing beyond the seas and trading goods with foreigners. The life of a merchant was competitive, yet my father managed to bring home supplies and other goods for our needs. Not only did he traded, but he explored foreign places and cultures.

Whenever he returned, he would tell my brother and me about his adventures. His eyes ignited with passion and his face expressive as he recounted all he's seen. If only I could lead such a life.

"What is inside this crate? Tell me you did not capture a wild animal." I peered inside, expecting some strange creature to emerge.

Father swung his head back, laughing. "Of course not. Just some weapons I managed to trade with another merchant. Go on. Take a look inside."

Intrigued, I set the crate down and threw off the lid. Inside contained weapons of sorts, mostly blunt and used with scars collected over the years. One weapon caught my eye – a blunt long sword with a wolf's head carved on the wooden hilt. Scars slashed on the blade giving the sword quite a story to tell.

My fingers slide along the silver blade, feeling its metallic touch against my skin. I stared at the weapon, wide-eyed.

"It's a beautiful find. I wonder who the owner of this sword was, and why they discard it," I mused, following my father down the village.

"A noble king used to wield that sword in battle," Father said. "Alas, he had lost his life in the hands of his enemy. Instead of holding onto his possessions, the king's family decided to give them away because keeping all traces of the king is bad luck. At least that's the custom was over there. As you can tell, they are a superstitious nation."